Electrical Engineering/Plan
II senior Sherry Cheng

The research lab is my kitchen. I don't get to tinker
with cookie sheets
and frying pans in the dormitories, so I take my creative energies
into
the lab. It's therapeutic. Every other afternoon, I step off the elevator
onto the seventh floor of the Environmental Engineering building and
walk
through two sets of double doors into the microbiology classroom. I
choose
a relatively clean lab coat from an array of abused ones passed down
from
generations of students, pick up a pair of goggles in bench drawer
#3, and
waltz out of the room in a superman strut as if my new apparel unveils
my
superpowers. A biohazard warning sign welcomes me in front of my lab.
I
unlock the doors, turn on the lights, and take a deep breath-I'm home.

My internship this semester turned the myth of graduate
research into a
realizable goal. I used to say I was interested in going to graduate
school, but I never actually knew what that meant. After taking on
this
internship, I'm relieved to find that I enjoy it. And I can make a
better
judgment about whether to pursue a PhD in the future.

I learned there are many aspects to graduate research.
The most obvious aspect is working in the lab. I assist a graduate
mentor in his research on bromate reduction in a biologically active
carbon (BAC) filter. With
his guidance and nurture, I attempt to battle physical, chemical, and
biological processes in my lab notebook and utilize them in public
health
related research. I learned many laboratory techniques such as bacterial
plating, measuring OD readings, and taking influent/effluent samples.
A
big part of my pleasant experience stems from my mentor's natural ability
to be a good mentor. He's instructive, patient, and easy to understand.
He
also helped me many times outside of the lab such as sharing his organic
chemistry flash cards and editing my summer research application essays.

Besides working with test tubes and beakers, a second
aspect to graduate research is working in a team. My first lab group
meeting flew by in a
blur. Sitting in a black office chair, arms rested on a wooden conference
table, I couldn't keep my heart from racing with excitement as my eyes
jumped from graduate students to professors, flanked on both sides
of my
seat. I never spoke after I introduced myself, and I could barely decipher
the jargon that flowed effortlessly from their lips. But I didn't care.
I
had found the heart of research. Ideas spread through the room like
wildfire, molded and tossed. Graduate students delivered and defended
reports one after another. Professors poured out years of experience
in
compliments and critiques. I could see that an invisible intellectual
force bound the group in harmony.

Through my time in the research lab, I learned that
a lot of its dynamics run like a family. Everyone has their own responsibilities.
You take turns
ordering supplies, washing the glassware, sterilizing the waste. Everyone
gives each other a hand. You introduce yourself to the new girl, answer
her sophomoric questions with a smile, and explain things to her
patiently. And everyone works together to resolve conflict. You make
schedules for using the IC equipment, get together every three weeks
to
talk about life in the lab, and you don't gossip. So in a way, the
best
preparation for research life is not how many well-plates you can fill
with a pipette in fifteen minutes. Anyone can learn that with practice.
It's really how well you get along with other people, even with your
own
family. Because, in a way, you're about to join a new one.

The third aspect of graduate school I discovered is
its preparation as a
career in teaching. I always struggled with the concept of being a
professor. I loved the idea of teaching and learning (and more learning),
but there was always this research concept that posed a stumbling block
to
me. I liked doing research-but not as an end in itself. I wasn't
interested in fastening myself to one project for the rest of my life,
in
which my self worth depended on the project's success. I was more
enthusiastic about working and discovering things with other people,
getting stuck and solving problems as a team, and then celebrating
together. It's hard to celebrate with yourself. Furthermore, I liked
the
prospect of guiding students in their learning, enhancing their self
discovery, and being a part of their life purpose.

My ideas about being a professor changed after interviewing
Dr. Kirisits. After speaking with Dr. Kirisits, my impression was that
professors can be
a sort of guide. There's a lot of planning and directing and designing
involved, but in the end it's about people. And that sounded good to
me.
Very good, in fact. Granted there are things that will get in the way
like
funding and proposals, but that's what Plan II is for, right? (ha!)
With
that perspective in mind, grad school is not a daunting escapade or
a
chore. It will be hard, but it's a natural process of the discipleship
program. And I will enjoy it for all it's worth.